"Ha, ha!" roared Pete. "Feelin' kinder sore, eh? Didn't wanter go in on eq'al shares! Wal, bust it, there ain't a-goin' ter be no eq'al shares! Ha, ha!"
"Don't I feel sorry fur 'em!" snickered Jimmy of Sellade.
"If you uns ain't too all-fired proud ter throw 'round a pick an' shovel fur a rough crowd like us, come acrost an' begin," suggested Tom, his features screwed up into an extraordinary smirk.
A fiery spot in Dick Travers' nature was touched.
"You're a lot of scoundrels!" he cried, shaking his fist. "You haven't a bit of right to that claim, and if there's any law in the country you won't be squatting on it long."
"Put us off, pard," jeered Alf Griffin.
"See here, Jim Reynolds!" exclaimed Bob, as the big lumberman and Woodle, panting from their exertions, joined the others, "did you order Tom Smull and Griffin to hold us up?"
"Nary a bit on't," answered Jim, earnestly. "Didn't know whar they'd gone, or nothing till they gits back an' shoves the drawin' under me nose."
"Then you thought it was all right for them to do it, eh?"